


Lucky One

by Greet



Series: Ex'Act | Diaries [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Park Chanyeol, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Immature Baekhyun, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Troubled Baekhyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 11:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greet/pseuds/Greet
Summary: " Baekhyun found himself continually running into Chanyeol, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he had rotten luck, or God hated him, but he was sure it was either of the two."Baekhyun considered himself an unlucky person with dumb-luck that Chanyeol stumbled into his life. But Chanyeol knew he was the lucky one.





	Lucky One

**Author's Note:**

> First part of the Ex'Act Series.  
> To clear any possible confusion, this series is based off of LYRICS before any music videos. So this will not relate to the Lucky One MV, but rather the lyrics.

Baekhyun cupped his hands around the coffee mug, the rest of his friends gazing at him with indiscernible expressions etched into their faces. He fidgeted in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs time and time again until he finally snapped internally. He couldn’t take the questioning and tense eyes burning into his skin a second longer. His knuckles turned white around the porcelain mug.

 

“Would you guys  _ stop  _ staring at me?” he begged, his fingers trembling as he struggled to relax his hands. He was terrified that one more ounce of pressure would shatter the mug in his hands. 

 

Jongdae spoke up first, glancing between Minseok and Sehun before shifting forward in his seat. “We’re just concerned, Baekkie,” he cooed in a patronizing tone that made Baekhyun’s blood boil. “We never thought he would…”   


  
“Well, he  _ did! _ ” Baekhyun snapped, pulling his hands back from the mug and slapping his open palms on the wooden table. Reddened heat crept up to his cheeks and tips of his ears, his own embarrassment and shame suffocating him as if a sock was crammed down his throat. His voice dropped an octave, his head bowing in shame as he picked at his nails, noticing the way Minseok, Jongdae, and Sehun looked at him with sad, wide eyes. “He did…”

  
  
Minseok cleared his throat and reached across the table, pressing his hand on top of Baekhyun’s fidgeting one, pulling his finger away from picking at his skin. “We know its hard,” he assured. “But you don’t have to be embarrassed. None of us liked how that douchebag treated you anyway.” 

 

Baekhyun scoffed, shaking his head. Jeon had been far from a douchebag, or so he thought, he was merely misunderstood. Afterall, after sweeping Baekhyun off of his feet back in high school, Jeon treated him like a prince. At least, until the second year of university.

 

“Don’t call him a douchebag,” Baekhyun croaked, still unable to meet Minseok’s gaze. He snatched his hand away, scowling and tucking his hands between his knees. “I don’t want pity.”

 

He heard a long, drawn-out sigh from in front of him, and soft whispering. They knew he could hear them, but perhaps they just wanted to risk him the outward embarrassment. He had barely worked up the courage to tell the trio he had been dumped in the first place, and now, simply referencing Jeon had hot tears burning in the corners of his eyes. The sock in his throat grew larger, and he felt as if he was drowning in his own suppressed tears and anger. Three years of endless effort and love he poured into a relationship apparently wasn’t enough, dumping him mindlessly like a used dishrag.

 

“Baekhyun, I’ve got to get back to work,” Sehun said, sliding a few bills over to him across the table. “Coffee’s on me.” With that, he gathered his bag before slipping out of the booth, moving over and placing a reassuring hand on Baekhyun’s nape. He left wordlessly. 

 

Jongdae moved out of Minseok’s side of the booth and slid in next to Baekhyun, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. Baekhyun slightly jolted at the touch, a quiet sniffle betraying his unscathed facade as he hung his head. He hated to admit how comforting the latter’s touch was to his shoulder, but he found himself leaning into it regardless.    
  


“Minseok and I’ve got a biology lab in a bit,” he whispered in his ear, letting Baekhyun lean into his touch gingerly. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

 

He sniffed again, reaching up to wipe at his teary eyes and running nose. He scolded himself; he knew he was being ridiculous and dramatic, and he was idiotic to drag his friends into his drama, much less drag them to coffee and proceed to break down in front of them.

 

Baekhyun wasn’t one to cry, not usually, and if he did need to, for any reason, he always found somewhere private to do so. He couldn’t stand to have his friends watch him so beat down. He was the happy pill- the one everyone looked to when they needed a hand to lift them from the dark. But now, Baekhyun was in the dark, something foreign to him, and he felt the tendrils of that darkness filling up his lungs with thick, oily water that suffocated him from the inside. The misery weighed him down like an anvil sitting in his gut, and he couldn’t lift himself from that darkness. He knew he’d have to rely on them, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to reveal that utter sadness lingering inside him in the wake of his break up. 

 

“I’ll be fine,” he mustered as he lifted his head and managed to look Jongdae in the eye. By the way the latter’s eyes softened and a sad smile tugged at his lips, Baekhyun could tell his eyes must’ve been red and puffy. 

 

Instead of pointing it out, much to Baekhyun’s relief, Jongdae merely wiped at the stray eyeliner on his cheeks before giving his forehead a curt peck, pulling back while grabbing for his backpack. “If you need anything, you can always call us. You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

 

“We’re here for you, dude,” Minseok agreed as he moved to stand as well. “We know how much he meant to you.” 

 

In that moment, Baekhyun couldn’t find it within himself to be embarrassed or annoyed. His friends only wanted the best for him, and he knew he would be nothing without them, now more than ever. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice broken and cracked as he struggled to fully glance up at them, self conscious of the redness of his face.

 

“Want us to walk you back to campus?” Minseok asked as he slung his backpack over one shoulder. “The dorm’s on the way-”

 

“No, thanks. I’m alright,” Baekhyun insisted. “I think I’m just gonna sit and finish my coffee.”   
  


Minseok offered him a gentle smile and nod, moving to stand beside Jongdae after he gathered his book bag and laptop. “Alright. You call us if you need anything, okay?”

  
  
“You got it, Mom,” he murmured with a burdened chuckle, eliciting a soft, content smile from Minseok. The latter patted his shoulder before he slung his arm around Jongdae and led him from the coffee shop.  

 

The shop had always relaxed him. He came here whenever he had a major exam or when he and Jeon needed a calm night out-  _ Damn,  _ nearly everything reminded him of Jeon now. The aged brick wall behind the cashier popped with hues of burgundy, maroon, and gray; Jeon always mentioned the colors, the beauty of how they tied together, and how the color of Baekhyun’s shirt brought out the glimmer in his eyes. He particularly loved the warmness of the wood counter and table-tops, and how they contrasted against the stark white of the mugs and plates. Baekhyun loved to watch his lips curl and his eyes twinkle as he talked on and on about the colors of the world, and how each one played a vital role in painting a beautiful image- usually ending his lecture noting how no color combination in the world could create something as  _ beautiful  _ as  _ Baekhyun. _

 

No one ever told him he was beautiful- not until he met Jeon. 

 

He remembered the evenings they’d sit out on the university lawn, Jeon lying across his thighs as he thumbed through a book. Baekhyun knew he wasn’t really paying attention to what he was reading, but he looked so handsome beneath the sun with the slightest pout on his lips that he couldn’t disturb him. He’d comb his fingers through his thick black hair, lightly scratching his thumb against his temple until they were lying in the grass together, legs tangled and eyelids heavy. He never felt more comfortable with another- never felt more like an open book until Jeon looked at him as if he understood every single page. He didn’t have to hide anything anymore.

 

But time passed. And things changed.

 

“Hey, are you alright?”   
  
Baekhyun flinched, realizing his fists were balled up in his lap, and his eyes were completely blurred with tears. He reached up, wiping at his eyes as the embarrassed heat rushed to his face. A boy- ears pointed and eyes wide- stood in front of him, leaning against the opposite side of the booth with concern contorted into his features. Baekhyun recognized him, his height and ears characteristic, but he couldn’t place a name with the concerned, bright face in front of him. 

 

He suddenly felt ashamed, ducking his face down with a curt nod. He clambered for the crumpled napkin on the table, dabbing at his eyes. He could still feel the stranger’s eyes burning into him, and he was mere inches from snapping at him to leave. He was surprised, however, when he caught the stranger slipping in opposite him from the corner of his eye. He heard a short shuffle, and the stranger had slid a small packet of tissues to him wordlessly across the table. He didn’t look up at him, humiliation weighing him down, as he grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. He hadn’t realized he started to break down at the memories of Jeon. Baekhyun felt like a giant hole was punched through his chest; something heavy was missing, leaving his body aching and crying for something to fill in that gap, to ease the phantom pain that spasmed throughout his chest in erratic bursts.  

 

The stranger shifted where he sat. Baekhyun just wished he would leave him alone. “You know, I think we’re in the same Biology lecture,” he started, his voice deeper than Baekhyun expected. “Are you just taking it as a core class? Or do you want to do something with STEMs?”

 

This made Baekhyun look up shyly. It was comforting that he wasn’t interrogating him about his very public emotional breakdown, and he appreciated it more than he could express in that moment. Perhaps he needed something to take his mind off of it. Nothing more.

 

“I want to be a doctor,” he croaked. A dream that Jeon shot down. “But I dunno...I probably can’t.”

  
  
The stranger’s eyes lit up at Baekhyun’s initial response, and he leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table while tapping his fingers in an irritating beat against the wood. “Why do you say that?” he asked. “You’re one of the smartest kids in that lecture hall.”

 

Baekhyun found his cheeks heating up again, much to his distress. “You don’t even know me,” he challenged. 

  
  
“I sit a few rows behind you,” he laughed. “You raise your hand for almost every question. I’m Chanyeol, by the way.”

 

The next thing he knew, the stranger was outstretching his hand, and Baekhyun found himself automatically taking it, shaking it curtly. He took a short moment to appreciate the tender warmth of his palm before he pulled it away. “I’m Baekhyun.”

 

“It’s nice to formally meet you, Baekhyun.” The stranger’s - Chanyeol’s - smile was entirely too contagious for Baekhyun’s liking. He lifted his hand to cover his lips, angry with himself for being so easily swayed by a complete stranger, but it felt good not to care- not to be so heavily weighed down with how utterly ugly and worthless he felt in the wake of Jeon’s devastation.

 

“You too. Chanyeol,” he muttered beneath his breath, clenching his jaw in anxiety as he felt an awkward silence lie over them. “Well, I better-”

  
  
“Why were you crying?”

 

“Please,” he muttered. “Don’t.”

 

“I know, I know,” Chanyeol seethed. “But I just… I can’t stand the thought of someone suffering alone like that. I know you don’t really know me, but I think everyone deserves a chance to clean the skeletons from their closet. And you seem like you have a few banging on the door.” 

 

Baekhyun faltered, his hands fidgeting around the coffee mug one more time as he pondered on how to respond. He felt his face devoured in flames, unable to meet Chanyeol in the eye as the latter seemed to inspect him from his neck down, as if analyzing him for weakness. Now, Baekhyun knew he was being paranoid. There could be very little ulterior motive, as he seemed a very gentle and caring person despite his appearance, but Baekhyun wasn’t sure he was ready to be an open book again. 

 

He sucked in a sharp breath, swiping violently at his cheeks as more tears threatened to spill. “I really can’t talk about it right now, okay?”   
  


Chanyeol sat back in his seat, his expression visibly dropping- as if he was defeated. He outstretched his hand again, after a moment of thinking. “Mind if I see your hand?”

 

Baekhyun scowled. “No, you creep.”

  
  
The latter just laughed. “I won’t do anything weird, I promise.” He gestured with his hand, beckoning for Baekhyun to take his hand in his one more time with an expectant yet troubled expression etched into his face. 

 

Reluctantly, Baekhyun let him take his hand, his palm clammy and fingers trembling. Chanyeol slipped his free hand into the bag beside him, pulling out a ballpoint pen. He pulled Baekhyun’s hand closer to him, forcing him to lean against the wood. He hunched over the back of his palm, writing digits into his skin with dull blue ink. Baekhyun scowled. Who did this guy think he was? Was crying some kind of strange turn on?

  
  
When he was done, Baekhyun pulled his hand back with force, examining the name and phone number on the back of his hand. “Wh…”

  
  
“Call me if you ever need to talk,” Chanyeol said as he started to slip from the booth, shouldering his back. “I’d write it on a napkin, but I know you’d probably just lose it.” 

 

Before he could reply, Chanyeol offered Baekhyun a curt nod and stalked off towards the shop’s door, leaving Baekhyun baffled and speechless, staring over his shoulder. He swallowed the thick lump he didn’t notice building up in his throat, glancing down at the smudged ink on the back of his hand.

 

_ Park Chanyeol. _

 

He left without finishing his coffee. 

 

* * *

  
  


The next few times Baekhyun went to his biology lecture, he’d crane his neck around to catch a glimpse at the curly-haired giant seated a few rows above him. There were nearly two-hundred kids in that lecture hall, so he didn’t really blame himself for never really noticing him before, especially when Baekhyun sat in the first few rows. 

 

Chanyeol never seemed to be looking back at him, which he was grateful for. He observed him silently for a few lectures, noticing the way he’d joke around and laugh with the few guys sitting around him, sometimes taking sloppy notes as he didn’t pay full attention to what the professor was saying. It made Baekhyun’s stomach crawl. He took his professor’s time seriously, or seriously enough that he wouldn’t sleep for one of the three weekly lectures. 

 

Thankfully, Baekhyun didn’t see the tall stranger anywhere else. The mere sight of him flustered him, and though he tried scrubbing off the number, it was still there- now a dull smudge of ink against his hand that Minseok, Sehun, and Jongdae questioned intensely. 

 

_ “What’s that on your hand, Hyun?” _

 

_ “It’s nothing-! Just some notes-” _ __  
  


_ Jongdae seized his wrist, squinting at the messy handwriting. _

 

_ “Baek, you just broke up with-” _

__  
_  
_ __ Baekhyun snatched his wrist back, stomping. “I know! Just some weirdo at the coffee shop yesterday. It’s no big deal. He wouldn’t leave me alone anyway.”

 

_ Minseok shared a skeptical look with Jongdae before glancing at Sehun. “You know Park Chanyeol, right?” _

__  
_  
_ __ Sehun hummed, sitting on his lofted bed as he absentmindedly played on his phone. “Yeah. He’s in my humanities seminar.”

__  
__  
_ Baekhyun sighed as Minseok shot him an insecure glance. “Look, Baekhyun, I know you might be on rebound-” _ __  


_  
_ _ “I am NOT-” _

 

_ “But you have to be careful. Okay?” He cupped Baekhyun’s cheeks. “I don’t want you getting hurt again. Don’t let anybody take advantage of you-” _ __  
  


_ Baekhyun groaned in disgust and pushed Minseok away, tucking his hands between his knees as he tried to ignore the ink on his hand. “Really, hyung, it’s all fine,” he assured. “He just saw that I was upset and wanted to help, I guess. He just wrote his number on my hand, it’s not like I’m actually going to call him. I’m not interested.” _

 

While it was still true that Baekhyun was far from interested, he found himself in the bathroom at a party, crying and shaking while he splashed cold water on his face. One of his friends- Taeyeon- invited him to a fraternity and sorority party, thinking it would help him get over his breakup, and maybe find a rebound hookup, but when Baekhyun ran straight into a red-eyed Jeon, he found himself regretting he ever attended.

 

His ex seized his left arm, pulling him close to his chest with an iron grip. Baekhyun gasped and tried pushing him away, his heart plummeting into his stomach as his body sparked with panic. He remember the pain Jeon caused him, along with the happiness and longing he felt for the boy, and his own mixture of emotions terrified him. He barely fought in Jeon’s grip, his breath rattling in his chest as Jeon started to tug him out of the thick, dazed crowd of the party, grumbling profanities under his breath while he clutched a red solo cup in his free hand.

 

He dragged Baekhyun outside, slamming him up against the brick wall of the fraternity house, the hand on his wrist, gliding up to caress his cheek. He pulled him into a heated and disgusting kiss; his breath and lips reeked of alcohol, and the sheer violence in the kiss made Baekhyun squirm, trying to get away as he struggled to compose himself.

 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jeon whispered, his voice husky and slurred. He grabbed at Baekhyun’s left shoulder, pinning him against the wall as he struggled, tears now coating his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I love you so much, you know that right?”

  
  
“Please, Jeon, let me go,” Baekhyun snarled through grit teeth, slapping at his hand as it wandered down his thigh. 

 

He despised how weak he was before the other man; the one who’s eyes used to peel him apart in layers until his most vulnerable form was bared; the one who promised him he’d hold him close forever, because they were perfect together; the one who hurt him the most. He couldn’t fight back, the hole in his chest slowly, yet bitterly mending with each passing second Jeon touched him, kissing sloppily at his cheeks, grazing his teeth against his lips. 

 

“You’ll take me back, won’t you?” he teased, now gripping at Baekhyun’s hip with one hand and playing with his waistband with the other. “You could never let me go, right, Baekkie?”

  
  
The wandering hands made Baekhyun snap. He gasped, pushing Jeon back with every last ounce of force in his body, kicking at him until he staggered free. He ducked back inside as fast as his legs would carry him, weaving through the crowd until he found the bathroom. He clambered for the door knob, locking himself inside as his breath quickened to hyperventilating. His cheeks were red and sore, his chest aching from working overtime. He could hardly move, his legs and arms shaking terribly as he staggered to the sink, gripping at the porcelain edge. He wanted to vomit. He thought that terrible, long chapter of his life was over, but in reality he was always trapped. Jeon could appear in front of him and have him wrapped again around his cocky little finger in a heartbeat, and Baekhyun couldn’t understand why. 

 

As breathing became harder, his chest heaving and sobs incoherent, Baekhyun sat against the wall, scrambling for his phone with trembling fingers. He could hardly see the screen, his eyes completely blurred with tears. He needed help, he knew that, he couldn’t breathe and with each passing second he felt his panic building up like an overflowed dam in his chest. His fingers fluttered to dial Minseok or Sehun or Jongdae, but he paused. 

 

He couldn’t imagine the disappointment on his friends’ faces if they discovered he fell for it- he let Jeon touch him and intimidate him again. He couldn’t stand being stared at with pity, as if he was a drowning puppy, and he knew he’d never live it down if he called them.

 

He glanced down at his hand. The blue ink was there, but faded, and Baekhyun didn’t have to think twice. It was a decision completely motivated by shame and panic; he could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest as he struggled to catch his breath, his hair plastered to his forehead. He dialed the number, teardrops dripping onto the touchscreen as he struggled to type. 

 

Pressing the phone to his ear, Baekhyun lifted his knees to his chest, shuddering and telling himself that he needed to  _ breathe  _ or else he would pass out. 

He also forget that it was half past midnight, and that Chanyeol was probably fast asleep, given that he wasn’t at that party- and yes, Baekhyun checked. 

 

“Please,” he whined under his breath, curling up so his forehead touched his knees as he cried. 

 

It seemed to have been ringing for eons, until the monotone dial clicked off, and soft static replaced it. “ _....Hello?”  _

 

_ Thank god. _

 

Baekhyun sobbed simply at hearing his voice, even as sleepy as it was. He shuddered, sniffing and struggling to compose himself so he could try to speak.

 

_ “Hey, Baekhyun? Is that you?” _

 

He choked. “Yeah-” he sighed, squeezing his free arm around his knees as if he was a human stress ball- as if the smaller he could curl up, the smaller his fear would be. “I can’t- Oh god.”

  
  
The sleepiness in Chanyeol’s voice was gone.  _ “Hey, breathe. Breathe. Where are you?” _

__  
_  
_ “T-Taeyeon’s party,” he shuddered. “ __ He’s  here, and he t-touched me, I can’t b-”

 

There was sudden rustling on the other line, followed by heavy breathing.  _ “Hold on, okay? I’ll come and get you.” _

 

Fear struck Baekhyun in his gut, and he realized how idiotic he was to call Chanyeol. This man was a complete stranger about to witness a rare panic attack that even his closest friends would never see. “No, don’t-”

 

_ “Just stay on the line with me, okay?”  _ Baekhyun was relaxed by his voice. It was reassuring- stable.  _ “You’re breathing kinda fast there. Listen to me.” _

 

_ “Breathe in for four seconds.” _ __  
  


 

Baekhyun steadied himself, drawing in air shakily from his nose as Chanyeol counted to four in his ear, like a reassuring whisper. 

 

_ “Now hold for seven seconds.” _ __  
  


He lifted his head, resting it against the tile as he struggled to hold onto his breath. It hitched in his chest, and he gasped in fear, his sobs tumbling past his lips and closing his windpipe. “I-I can’t do it-”

  
  
_ “Yes, you can Baekhyun. You just have to focus. Breathe in for four seconds.” _

 

Baekhyun counted with him. 1, 2, 3, and 4.

 

“ _ Hold for seven.” _

 

Baekhyun let his eyes fall shut, his fingers still tightly gripping the phone as if it was a lifeline. He shuddered, the breath trying to escape in panic sobs, but Baekhyun forced it down with a thick swallow.

 

_ “Good, and exhale for eight.” _

 

He let his breath slowly slip past his lips as Chanyeol counted for him, and with each second that past, Baekhyun felt his lungs calming down, his chest aching, but breath coming a little easier with each time Chanyeol encouraged him to do it again.

 

Over the next ten minutes, Baekhyun calmed himself down, completely slumped against the wall as he cradled his phone next to his ear, letting Chanyeol talk to him and ask him meaningless questions. He almost forget that he called him in a sobbing panic, his mind numb and body even more so as Chanyeol’s deep voice was nearly putting him to sleep. He heard knocking on the bathroom door at some point, worsening the pounding in his forehead, but he ignored it with a mumble. 

 

He jerked suddenly as the knocking returned, this time more intense and rapid. He pushed himself up off the floor, his legs like jelly beneath his weight. He crept closer to the door, too afraid to glance at himself in the mirror to see the damage of his panic attack. He reached for the knob, letting his hair hang in his face as he unlocked it and pulled it open, afraid as to who was on the other side.

 

Chanyeol was in front of him, ushering him back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He gently grabbed Baekhyun by the shoulders and, sensing his numb stat, steered him toward the sink. He dampened a hand towel and dabbed at Baekhyun’s cheeks, probably swiping away the ruined eyeliner he put on prior to the party. He pushed his bangs out of his face, wiping across his forehead and dabbing at his neck before pulling away.

 

Baekhyun forced his heavy eyelids open to spare a vulnerable, broken glance at Chanyeol. He hated to see the pity and concern on his face. 

 

“Are you feeling okay?” Chanyeol asked him, patting at his cheek as he searched for an answer. “Have you ever had a panic attack before?”   
  
Baekhyun shrugged. He couldn’t really bother to think about it in that moment. His head  _ hurt  _ and all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep for the next forty-eight hours. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled under his breath. “You didn’t have to come.”

  
  
Chanyeol offered him a warm smile that sent a chill down Baekhyun’s spine. “I gave you my number for a reason,” he said, patting Baekhyun on the shoulder. “I’m glad you used it. I think I should take you home. Where do you live?”

 

He shook his head, letting his eyes fall shut as he stepped away from Chanyeol and the sink. “I can walk, it’s fine-”

  
  
Chanyeol grasped him by the wrist, but nothing compared to what Jeon’s grip felt like earlier. It was gentle and warm. “I insist. I just want to make sure you get home safe. I have a car, so you can take a nap if you want.”

  
  
A nap did sound wonderful, so Baekhyun allowed Chanyeol to practically escort him from the dwindling party, ushering him out onto the curb where his black SUV was parked. Baekhyun didn’t really have the mind or patience to appreciate the car at the time, letting Chanyeol help him into the passenger seat and pulling his belt across his lap. 

 

Chanyeol tried to talk to him on the ride, asking him small questions on how he felt, or if he thought any of his drinks tasted funny. It was an odd question, Baekhyun thought, but he answered earnestly regardless. He felt guilt for not being able to fully respond, his exhaustion tugging at his eyelids and bones like the anvil trapped inside of him until he was limp against the window of the car, letting the coolness of the glass lull him to sleep. 

 

“C’mon, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol whispered as Baekhyun was stirred from his sleep by a light shake to his shoulder. “We’re outside. I can walk you up if you want.”

 

Baekhyun blinked and offered Chanyeol a tired smile, his eyes heavy yet sincere. “No, I can manage,” he mumbled. “Uh… Thank you. For today.”

 

“It’s really not a problem. I’m just glad you called,” Chanyeol said, looking down to pick at his nails. “If you have another problem like that again- or another panic attack- you can talk to me.”

  
  
He couldn’t do much else but nod and push his car door open, shakily climbing from the SUV. He walked out in front of Chanyeol’s headlights, waving to him before letting his head hang down, trudging up to his residence hall. He swiped his ID card at the box, pulling the door open and glancing back to look at Chanyeol’s car, but it was already gone. He tried to disregard the lingering disappointment before letting the door shut behind him.

 

Nearly falling asleep in the elevator, Baekhyun made it back to his dorm room, stepping inside quietly so Sehun wouldn’t awake. He crept past his bunk and slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door. He finally took that moment to look at himself in the mirror. His cheeks were rubbed raw and a shade of intense cherry red. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, somes tray streaks of eyeliner smudging beneath his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was this disheveled, in front of Chanyeol of all people- a man he hardly knew. 

 

He turned on the faucet and dunked his hands beneath the warm water, splashing some onto his face before dabbing it dry with towel. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he dug the towel deeper and harsher against his skin until his cheeks were even more raw, scrubbing away the disgusting signs of his connection to Jeon that made him feel like living garbage. He turned the faucet heat up, sticking his left wrist underneath the scalding water as he scrubbed at it; he tried to scrub away Jeon’s touch, Jeon’s imprint, everything that he had done. 

 

He didn’t love him. Baekhyun used to- he did, he knew he did, but now all he could think about was how he had to skin himself to rid himself of the person that single handedly built him up and tore him down to every last brick. He couldn’t stop scrubbing. He didn’t love him. He never loved him. Baekhyun was merely a toy to him- someone to carry on his arm like a piece of jewelry. He was nothing.  _ Baekhyun  _ was nothing.

 

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

 

“Baekhyun.”

 

* * *

  
  


“Thanks for meeting me.”   
  
Chanyeol bit his lip. Baekhyun noticed he did that often. “It’s not a problem,” he said. “Is something wrong?”   
  
“I just wanted to check in on you,” Chanyeol said. “I haven’t heard from you since two weeks ago at the party.”

 

Baekhyun fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to do with the latter- whether to hold him at arm’s length or invite him as someone who can potentially tear him down all over again. “I haven’t need you, so… I’m fine.”   
  
“I just… I feel like you bottle things up-”   
  
“Why do you even  _ care? _ ” Baekhyun seethed, slapping his palms against the table. “You don’t know me. We’re not friends. You just  _ pity  _ me. Isn’t that it?”   
  
“No, no,” Chanyeol stoically answered. “I don’t pity you.”

 

“What is it then? Why do you care so much?!”

 

Chanyeol let out a gentle sigh, leaning forward in his seat. “I’ve seen you around, Baekhyun. I mean, you’re not an invisible person, everybody here loves you,” he began, his voice quiet. “You’re the happy guy, right? People expect you to be okay, to be perfect, to fix everyone else’s troubles. But...you have your own troubles, your own heartache. Right? I saw you in the coffee shop, and my...I dunno, my heart broke. Because no one deserves to cry alone.”

 

Baekhyun hesitated a moment, his shame returning to his cheeks as he struggled to maintain his angry facade. Chanyeol was just trying to help, and he understood that much, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around why. Why would someone like him want to protect and comfort someone pathetic like Baekhyun?

 

“I think you’re worth it,” Chanyeol said. “Whoever hurt you, they… I have no words for them. They’re an idiot.” 

 

That spurred a chuckle that Baekhyun was a little too late suppressing. He tucked his chin down, fidgeting his hands in his lap as he hesitated. They sat like that a few moments: in a comfortable silence. But as it dragged on, Baekhyun could tell there were words on Chanyeol’s lips that he was struggling to pin back.

 

“What is it?” Baekhyun asked. 

 

“What?”   
  


He sighed. “You look like you want to ask me something… What is it?”   
  


Chanyeol hesitated, his expression suddenly very anxious and troubled. “I just…” he paused. “You don’t have to answer- I was just… Who was it?”   


  
“Sorry?”

  
  
“That night- at the party- you said  _ he.  _ Who was it…? What did he do?"

 

Baekhyun froze at the question. So, he wanted to know who Jeon was, and Baekhyun wasn’t sure he was ready to dive into that story just yet. But the way Chanyeol gazed at him, his eyes soft and comforting, Baekhyun felt the adhesive inside of ihim trying to artifically mend the hole in his chest melt away. 

 

“He was an ex-boyfriend,” he mumbled. “Recent ex.”

  
  
“Oh,” Chanyeol hummed. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a mutual breakup?” He could tell by the way his expression twisted that he traveled into uncharted, dangerous territory.

 

“No,” he answered bluntly. “It wasn’t.  I… After a basketball game, he took me behind the stadium, and he.. He wanted to  _ you know-  _ and I didn’t, so… he got mad and dumped me, I guess.”

  
  
Baekhyun suddenly felt incredibly pathetic. He was in college yet the thought of being intimate with Jeon terrified him, and given Jeon’s reaction to his rejection, Baekhyun wasn’t sure he’d every be comfortable with it.

 

Chanyeol’s expression never changed, however, which granted him some piece of mind. “Sounds like it’s for the better,” he suddenly spoke. “If he didn’t respect your decision- he hardly seems mature.”

 

Baekhyun smiled lightly at the comment. “I guess. He didn’t… really break up with me right away. He kept trying to convince me, wouldn’t leave me alone. He started getting  _ angry  _ and jealous no matter who I looked at or what I did. I felt powerless.”

 

“But why do you sound like you still love him?” he asked.

 

“Because I do… I hate it that I do, but… He built me up as much as he destroyed me. I can’t just forget that,” Baekhyun whimpered. 

  
  
Chanyeol hesitated for a moment, glancing Baekhyun up and down. “Don’t,” he whispered. “He shouldn’t mean this much to you. Not after what he did. Baekhyun, you deserve so much better.”

  
  
Suddenly, Baekhyun’s defenses shot up, and he stood from his seat in the dining hall, flinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Who are you, my shrink?!” he snapped before storming from the hall, head ducked. 

 

Chanyeol sat there, watching Baekhyun’s retreating figure until he disappeared. 

  
  


Baekhyun found himself continually running into Chanyeol, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he had rotten luck, or God hated him, but he was sure it was either of the two. He couldn’t walk past the latter without feeling pent up shame weighing him down until he literally would flee the room so just not to be seen. Every time he saw Chanyeol, he could only see himself crying in the bathroom, could only feel Jeon’s unwelcomed hands on his hip. He wanted to block it all away, to move on past his own misery and self-hatred, but he couldn’t when Chanyeol was always there to remind him of it. 

 

He sat in biology one Monday morning, barely awake from a late night of studying, when he felt something his his back. Someone behind him was passing him a paper. He frowned and took it without a word, uncurling the paper in his lap to find scrawling handwriting:  _ You okay? _

 

He looked behind him. The boy who handed him the note simply shrinked away and pointed to the row behind him, where Chanyeol sat, his head seemingly buried in a book, but Baekhyun knew he wasn’t actually doing anything.

 

He looked back at the note, stuffing it in his pocket and choosing to ignore it. As the lecture ended, Baekhyun tried to slip away through the crowd to dodge Chanyeol, but when he heard the lanky guy calling after him as he started to walk across the lawn, his heart plummeted into his gut. He paused, taking in a deep breath before turning on his heel to face Chanyeol, who’s cheeks were flushed from chasing after him.

 

“What?” Baekhyun asked. “I have to get to class.”

  
  
Chanyeol frowned. “You didn’t respond to my note.”

  
  
“Yeah, we’re not in third grade,” he retorted. “Besides, I’m fine.” He tried to turn and keep walking to his class.

 

Chanyeol caught up alongside him, matching his stride with Baekhyun’s. “What if we had lunch? Or maybe we could just go for some coffee?”

  
  
“What are you doing, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asked. “What do you want?”

  
  
From the corner of his eye, Baekhyun could see how Chanyeol’s face flickered. He looked offended. “I just want to hang out- if you’re busy-”

 

Baekhyun stopped walking and stood in front of Chanyeol, putting his hands out in front of him to stop him. “Just...stop,” he whispered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. “I’m grateful for what you did for me. I am, truly. But you don’t have to pretend to be my friend.”

  
  
“I’m not pretending!” Chanyeol said. “I wanted to hang out. Get to know you a little bit.”

  
“But why?”

 

“I dunno,” he hesitated. “You seem like a cool person. C’mon, just one lunch?”

 

Baekhyun looked Chanyeol up and down, his face flickering as he noticed how nervous he seemed in his stance, the toe of his shoe dragging in the grass and his fingers fidgeting with the heavy biology book in his arms. 

 

“One lunch,” Baekhyun affirmed, rolling his eyes. “I’ll meet you at The Max at two.”

 

He hated the way his chest throbbed as he watched Chanyeol’s face lit up like a child in a candy store. He shook his head and turned to keep walking, glancing back at Chanyeol with a wave. “Now leave me alone! I have to go to my lab!”

 

Chanyeol only responded with a toothy grin, waving back at Baekhyun as he fixed his backpack on his shoulder and walked the opposite way. 

 

Baekhyun walked to his lab class distracted. He still didn’t quite understand what Chanyeol’s motivation was. He surely wasn’t looking for a relationship, Baekhyun was far too tender for that now, and it seemed odd that the latter would want to befriend him after seeing him at his absolute lowest point on that bathroom floor. His own shame was so heavy that he could hardly meet his eye, just knowing that Chanyeol saw that naked part of his soul. He knew he wouldn’t want to be friends with himself if he saw how truly pathetic he was on the inside.

 

So it intrigued him how persistent Chanyeol was. It surprised him how everything came naturally when he was around him, how he wanted to effortlessly spill his troubles, but his fear held him back. Afterall, he barely knew him, and Baekhyun was petrified of letting anyone too close now. He even held Minseok, Jongdae, and Sehun far away, especially after Minseok walked in on his meltdown in the bathroom when he tried scrubbing his own skin off. He was hardly at the dorms anymore, too scared to face his friends and their underlying judgment. He couldn’t take it right now. 

 

He was so preoccupied in his own anxiety that he nearly forget that Jeon was in his lab class. Though he was an art major, he still needed a basic biology lecture and lab core to move to more specialized classes. The lab was only once a week, and Baekhyun had skipped the past two after Jeon broke up with him. He was falling behind in his studies, and at that point, he had no choice but the swallow his fear and pretend like nothing happened.

 

Baekhyun was again convinced his luck was rotten when he got stuck with Jeon as a lab partner after struggling to keep himself hidden on the other side of the room. They worked in silence, Baekhyun avoiding Jeon’s touch, nearly flinching out of his skin when they’re fingers accidentally brushed reaching for the same beaker. 

  
“I’m sorry for what happened at the party,” Jeon suddenly whispered beside him as they were cleaning up their station.

 

Baekhyun stared at him, eyes already watering. He gnawed on his bottom lip until it was red, swollen, and raw, staring at Jeon with a quivering resolve. “You’re not-”   


  
“I am,” Jeon whispered, reaching for Baekhyun’s hand. “I was drunk, and… I was so  _ angry  _ at you. I always did what you wanted to do. But when I asked you for  _ one thing-” _

 

“That  _ one thing  _ was something I wasn’t comfortable with,” Baekhyun countered, surprising himself at his own resolve. “Don’t even think about comparing that.”

  
  
Jeon sighed and slipped his apron over his head. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry, and.. I want to give us another shot.”   


  
Baekhyun shot him an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious.”

 

“I am,” he soothed. “I was just angry, for no reason, and I don’t think years of a relationship should be thrown away over something so silly.”

 

His heart thundered in his chest. Dealing with a clearly intoxicated Jeon was one battle, but now he was just as sober and charming as when he first met him, his eyes sparkling and giving Baekhyun the once-over that made his knees go weak. It was as if he was falling for his spell all over again, the hole in his chest whispering in his ear and begging for relief of the massive pain pounding right where his heart should’ve been healthily beating. 

 

He glanced at the clock above the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. 

 

_ 1:58 _

 

He took off his apron and shoved it against Jeon’s chest. “I’m sorry, I have to meet someone.”

 

Baekhyun never regretted choosing Chanyeol over Jeon in that moment. 

He was finally able to resist the man that tore him down from the ground up. 

* * *

  
  


_ Two Months Later _

 

“I know I said it before, but…” he paused. “Thank you. Really. For everything.”   
  
Chanyeol smiled at him warmly, resting his chin against his upturned palm.    
  
“You know, my life’s been full of really rotten luck,” he continued. “But you’re the one lucky thing that happened. Or maybe...not-lucky. Either way, I’m grateful.”

 

Wordlessly, the latter reached across and took Baekhyun’s hand. “You say that, but I’m really the lucky one. Just to see you smile is enough for me. I hate that someone managed to take that smile away.”   
  
Baekhyun shook his head, pulling his hand away with a soft frown. “I’m sorry, Chanyeol-ah,” he whispered. “I’m just...really not ready for a relationship right now. Not so soon.”   
  
Instead of the frown he expected, Chanyeol’s smile never wavered. “I know. I can wait.”

* * *

  
  
  


_ Day Before Christmas Break _

 

“You’re going to visit your family Baekhyun?”   
  


He shook his head. His family lived way too far away for him to visit them over the holidays, nor did they remotely have to money to fly him home for only two weeks. He didn’t mind too much, though, he usually spend the break in his dorm relaxing and catching up on some personal reading that he never had the time for otherwise. He still spoke to his mother and father on the phone every weekend, so he was at least in some kind of contact with them. 

 

“They’re busy,” he said. “Too expensive to fly me out.”   
  
Chanyeol frowned. “That’s too bad… Isn’t it lonely staying on campus?”

 

Baekhyun shrugged. “It could be worse,” he said. “I have my books.”   
  


“Wait,” Chanyeol mumbled, pulling out his phone and typing quickly into it before stowing it back into his pocket. “Why don’t you just come to my place?”   
  


Baekhyun paled. “No- I couldn’t-”   
  


“Why not?” he challenged. “I don’t live far from here, and we have a huge place. Plenty of room for guests, and I’m sure my mom would be thrilled to know I actually made friends at university.” 

 

Baekhyun always found it hard to reject Chanyeol’s puppy eyes, so he found himself on a train heading into the countryside late that night, listening to his music through his earbuds as Chanyeol slept soundly on his shoulder. 

 

* * *

  
  


_ New Year’s Eve _

 

_ “Ten! Nine! Eight!” _

 

“Hey, Baekhyun?” 

 

“Yeah, Yeol?”

 

_ “Seven!” _

 

“Do you think you’re ready? I’m not trying to rush you-”   
  


_ “Six! Five!” _

 

Baekhyun was silent.

 

_ “Four! Three!” _

 

“Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

 

_ “Two! One!” _

 

Chanyeol cupped Baekhyun’s cheeks in his hands, pulling his jaw up to his and kissing him with such tenderness that Baekhyun didn’t even hear the fireworks go off.

_ “Happy New Year!” _

  
Baekhyun smiled into the kiss. “New year, new me, I guess. Hopefully my luck will change.”   
  
“I hope mine never does,” Chanyeol replied. 


End file.
